


Messy Hair and Sleepy Mornings

by Jsmelnick



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8158012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jsmelnick/pseuds/Jsmelnick
Summary: The reader (female) and Sherlock wake up in bed together. Sultry events ensue...





	

**Author's Note:**

> After finishing watching Sherlock, my mind was bursting with ideas and I had to get something down into a story. This one-shot was the result. Please bear with me, as this is my first attempt! I would, however, love to get some feedback! Thanks!

* * *

     His fucking hair was in my face, again. The brunette curls extended eloquently in what one would normally consider a fro, but taking into consideration the exquisite look of him made you reconsider. The soft curls were always perfectly coiffed, and smelled of pine. Despite how gorgeous his locks were, they were constantly getting in my face and tickling my nose. I stretched awake and blew out a huff of air. Obviously I was not going to get any more sleep that morning. Well, it was his fault I was awake, so he was just going to have to get up too.

     The sheets on the bed were cool against my skin, and I could feel the heat radiating off of his slender body. I reached up under the mass of tangles and curls, and ran my fingers through his hair. I used my nails to scratch at his scalp and gently tug at his locks. Sherlock turned towards me with an annoyed groan. With his eyes still closed he wrapped his hand around my waist and pulled me close. “You know I hate it when you do that.” His gravelly voice was like velvet. “Your hair woke me up again, Sherlock. How is it that you manage that? Every morning!” He started thumbing at the waistband of my shorts and I quickly swallowed whatever other complaints I had prepared. He opened his eyes, “I could cut it, if you like.” His sparkling eyes searched my face.

     “Cut it?! God no! What would I hold on to when we’re…well…when we’re…”? His smile slowly stretched across his mouth. The daze of sleep fell from his eyes and I could see the desire flash in his gaze. A quick glance to my lips was all the warning I had before his hand moved up to my neck and pulled me in for a deep kiss.

     His lips were dry against mine in the most thrilling way. Everything about him was thrilling. The way he fisted his hand in my hair, the way our bodies pressed together, and especially the way his lips locked perfectly into mine. I wrapped my leg around his torso and pulled him closer to me, wanting to be as close as possible. Both of his hands were in my hair now and I was seeing stars. Together, we were electric. One of his muscled arms reach down to cup my ass, then thigh. He used the back of my knee to angle me closer to his seemingly more obvious erection growing in his pants.

     His hand flipped me over so that my back was to him, and I could feel every inch of his chiseled physique pressed tightly against me. His hard length was pressed to the curve of my ass, and hips were slowly grinding, gaining friction. I arched my back towards him. His gasp was almost silent if his lips hadn’t been next to my ear. His hand traveled up the length of my side and landed on my breasts. His tender touch was infuriating; I needed more. Sherlock seemed to sense my longing and his hand moved back down again. I moaned when his fingertips broached the hem of my shorts, and then panties.

     Excruciatingly slowly, his hand moved lower to explore my soft curls. His hand moved deeper as he parted my lips, and stroked a fingertip against my sensitive clit. I gasped and bucked my hips against his hand and cock. If that wasn’t enough, his other hand was gently grasping my throat, and his lips and tongue were dancing circles along the inside of my ear and neck. When his hand moved deeper still, the sensation was almost too much to bear. “Oh, oh Sherlock” I gasped. He growled against my ear, “Take me inside of you.” I could feel the vibrations on my neck and throat. Before I could respond, he had slid two fingers inside of me.

     The entirety of it was overwhelming. His slender fingers moved achingly slow in and out of my wet heat. I could feel his fingers tighten around my neck, and I was shivering with pleasure. He took his fingers out of me, but before I could stifle a protest, I turned to look into his eyes. He raised his fingers, now coated with my silky wetness, and sucked them clean. His unwavering eye contact and expression of bliss against the taste of me, had me slack jawed.

     He moved to get on top of me and my legs straddled his waist. He let his body weight fall against me gently. I could feel the undeniable pressure from his engorged cock. When I tightened my grip of his waist and thrust against him, I heard him mutter a, “Oh fuck.” Both of his hands reached up for mine, and he laced our fingers together. He used this to his advantage and pressed both hands above my head. I couldn’t move my arms but I knew just how to drive him crazy with lust. His smug grin dropped from his face when I bit my lip seductively and ground against his length once more. “Oh you like that, don’t you?” I asked coyly.

     I could tell in his eyes he knew the game was on when he dipped his head down to my neck, and bit the sensitive flesh there. His hips began to move into rhythm with his biting and suckling of my neck and throat. I felt a smile tug against his lips, but I knew just how to get what I wanted. “Oh! Ooh” I moaned louder than needed, “God, Sherlock, I need you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me right fucking now.” It wasn’t just for the little game we were playing; I really did mean it. And thank God Sherlock lost his shit right then and there.

     He ripped off his shirt, and got off both of our pants as quickly as he could manage. With his member now fully exposed, he guided the head to my entrance. He only stilled for a moment to look at me with curious eyes. I smiled and gave a small nod of approval. He shared my smile in return and guided himself inside of me until he was buried to the hilt. We locked eyes and he leaned down to give me the most passionate kiss. Our tongues swirled and danced as he started a tortuously slow rhythm. With lips still locked he reached up to press against my hands once again. I writhed and squirmed with the intense pleasure building within me. His pace quickened with each thrust he made. Pleasure welled up warm and comforting, like a blooming flower. When Sherlock broke the kiss to look into my eyes I lost myself. Seeing him above me, with such love and respect, while maintaining dominance and sexual prowess, I knew I was done for. I came, screaming his name, and arching my back in sheer delight. It wasn’t long into my aftershocks of pleasure did I feel him spasm within me. He shouted my name, and collapsed on top of me.

     We both lay there for a while, breathing in the scent of each other. His body weight was a comfort against mine, and I listened to his deep and even breaths. I wrapped my arms around his back and absent mindedly played with his hair. “I love you,” he whispered against my cheek, “And, I suppose I won’t cut my hair after all.” I chuckled lightheartedly and lifted his head to kiss him deep and strong. I was so in love.

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End file.
